


How We Got Here

by iDiru



Series: How We Got Here-verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: ANGGGGST all the angst, Altering of shit, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Disturbing Content, Fingering, First Time, First chap is just smut, Gore, Graphic male birth, Humor, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Me not being able to write characters too well, Mpreg, Organs, Vomiting, kind of ooc, non-canon, platonic sastiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iDiru/pseuds/iDiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Castiel gives birth, Dean recounts how they got to where they were now, and how one night can change everything, or change nothing at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conception

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and warnings are for future chapters, not all of them happen in one chapter.

  It was sometime around midnight, and everything had changed since the now previous morning.

Dean’s life had been seemingly normal, up until a few months ago, when it suddenly changed in a way he had never expected. It had been frightening at first; shocking, scary, and it made him incredibly nervous, but he had come to accept it.

But now, there he was, on the dirty floor, with the sounds of cries sharp in his ear, and the fairly pungent, stale air stinging his nostrils.

And as he sat there, with a myriad of emotions he couldn’t all identify at once, he began to recount on just how he’d gotten here.

\----

It had been a routine hunt; one that ended in a mild tragedy. The case was stupid; very, very stupid.

There were just too many damn things to hunt, and of course, someone ended up getting hurt, and of course, it was Dean.

Neither Dean nor Sam knew what was going on, exactly; just that there were a bunch of baddies skulking around, wrecking the town and confusing everyone.

Though, what they were aware of, was that something had to have caused it, and that was what they were investigating.

However, time was of the essence, so the both of them were hunting and investigating separately; which was stupid.

But because of such a short time-span, they enlisted in the help of their favorite angel, who obliged, albeit a bit less than happily. More…emotionlessly.

So, he was doing a bit of observing, rather than questioning, using his angel mojo to sneak around and teleport.

But it was when one of them came out of hiding, and into the open, that Dean had gone after it, and things had gone poorly.

He had killed it, but it left him with a deep gash to his thigh.

Bleeding profusely all the way back to the motel, and most likely ruining his pants even further, Dean had drove back to their current place of living.

It wasn’t like it was something he couldn’t handle, but it hurt, and it was really throwing him off.

They did carry medical supplies with them, of course, if something like this were to arise, but upon Dean’s inspection of their stock, he found there was no disinfectant, and Dean was not about to get an infection. Especially after all the nastiness that had probably been knocked into his gaping flesh wound.

The next best thing was to head back to the motel, and flush the wound out, after going to pick up some disinfectant.

 

Upon arriving at the store and buying some, he got quite a few curious and disgusted stares from the other patrons from the large, red stain steadily widening on his pants, and the visible, gaping flesh maw showing through the tear in the denim.

After arriving ‘home’, he flushed the wound and doused it with disinfectant, hissing lightly as it stung the open wound.

His next attempt to continue dressing the wound was a poor one. He was forced to stich it himself, which, he was always bad at.

Sam was much better, and it was usually him stitching his wounds closed, but Sam wasn’t here, and Dean had to make due.

Upon further inspection of his medical supplies, he realized now that they were also void of any bandages. Who the hell stocked this shit? It was probably his job… He had no one to blame but himself, and there he was, stuck there with bad stitches and no bandages.

Sans-bandage, Dean made the best of his situation and changed pants, hoping the thing didn’t break open.

With nothing to do, and waiting for Sam to get back, Dean ended up falling asleep.

It was the sound of a familiar voice that yanked him from his slumber, and he shot up in startled manner.

“What?!” Dean shouted, having heard his name.

He found Castiel standing there, staring at him again. At least he had bothered to alert himself, but Dean still wasn’t happy.

“Dude, you gotta stop doing that. What are you doing here?”

“Reporting my findings.”

“Which are?”

“Nothing yet…but I thought you’d like to know.”

Dean drew his legs up, and grimaced as he felt a damp, sticky feeling spread across his thigh.

“Dean…you’re hurt.”

“Yeah, I know…Asshole got me right in the leg. Fuck…there goes another pair of jeans.”

“Let me fix that.” Castiel said, sauntering over to the bed.

“Cas, I don’t know if I want your hands there…”

“Would you rather go around with an open wound?” Castiel inquired.

“…I guess not. Alright, go ahead.” Dean said, spreading his legs apart so that Castiel could easily access the wound.

The angel seated himself next to Dean, before placing his hand firmly on the damp spot of his jeans, and he began the process of healing, which should have taken a few mere seconds, but something was going wrong.

“It’s not working quite as fast as usual…” Castiel said, looking a bit flustered and confused.

Dean swallowed hard, watching as the angel attempted to heal him. His heart was thudding in his chest, to the point where Castiel could probably even hear it if he listened.

Dean was willing to bet Castiel had absolutely no idea what he was doing to him. In truth, Dean liked Castiel as more than just a friend. Maybe not a lover, perhaps, but someone he would definitely like to bed, and there he was, with his hand so close to his genitals, and he was not moving.

“Cas…can ya hurry it up, please?”

“I’m trying…Dean, what did this to you? Whatever it was, it’s resisting the healing process.”

“I…fuck, Cas…just, move your hand, please?”

“It’s almost healed; just give me a minute…”

Dean wasn’t sure why, but Castiel tightened his grip on his thigh, and this was making things even harder. Almost quite literally. He was feeling…aroused, and incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation.

He could feel his cock twitching to life in response to the angel’s hand, and this was bad.

“I’m sure it’s good enough…”

“Do you have any bandages here?”

“…No.”

“Then it needs to be completely healed.”

Dean’s eyes drifted downwards to the crotch of his pants, and there he found the beginnings of a visible erection, and he just prayed Castiel wasn’t noticing.

It had come to the point where Dean felt that he was completely healed, and he just wanted to get out of there, but…Castiel wasn’t moving.

The whole time, he had avoided the angel’s gaze, but when he looked up, he saw that Castiel was looking straight at him. His gaze was so sharp it was as though he was looking straight _into_ him.

Castiel looked like a hawk; a predatory hawk, staring down his prey, and Dean was the mouse.

Dean wasn’t quite sure what was causing Castiel to look at him like this, but he was dumbstruck and confused, staring at him with his mouth slightly agape as neither of them dared to move.

But Castiel finally did move; he moved his hand, finally, but not away from him. Rather, he moved it slowly and deliberately up his thigh.

Dean quickly broke the gaze, watching as Castiel’s hand started to travel upward, and he panicked.

“Whoah, hey-hey! You healed me, I’m not hurt there!”

“Dean…” Castiel said, his voice low and quiet, but almost mocking in a way. “You’re like an open book.”

“I’m a what?” Dean asked nervously.

Castiel didn’t speak, only stared at him now, and there was something dark lurking behind the deep blues of his eyes. Or was it something else…?

Perhaps not darkness, but a lack of his usual innocence.

“You’re easy to read.” Castiel said finally, and his hand drifted ever further, “I assumed you’d know that turn of phrase.”

“I know what it means Cas…I- hey…remember that thing we talked about? Personal space? You’re really, really not abiding by the personal space rule right now.”

Indeed, Castiel had drifted closer to him; way too close.

“Do you think that I’m stupid?” the angel asked, with a vague hint of offense laced on his tone, “Do you not think I can see how you’re acting? The energy radiating off of you is saturated with arousal…”

Castiel was so close now his breath was fanning against Dean’s face as he spoke, which Dean noted, had little to no scent, but Dean was in no position to contemplate just how Castiel’s vessel was working, because he was feeling too many feelings at once, and this was not the time.

Arousal, fear, discomfort…but he wasn’t sure which one he felt the strongest at the moment.

It felt like a shockwave of surprise ran through his body, when the angel’s lips were suddenly on his, but barely. It was such a soft kiss; barely even considered a kiss, more of just touching him with his lips. Breathing in his air, and breathing it back into Dean.

Dean knew Castiel knew how to kiss, though; he’d seen it. He was doing this on purpose, and he knew what he was doing.

Dean wasn’t sure whether to kiss back, or to move or leave, or what to do, but it was driving him mad. Castiel was teasing him, and Dean didn’t know why. Did he take some kind of sick enjoyment out of this?

Every nerve in his body was firing off at once; he was itching with need. This was not enough; not at all. He needed more. He needed him to kiss him, to touch him more and he wasn’t doing it.

The hunter’s lips finally moved against Castiel’s, returning what little of a kiss he’d given him, and Castiel didn’t seem bothered.

In fact, he seemed enthused. He fastened his lips roughly to Dean’s, enveloping himself in the kiss, as his hand began to move again. It had moved hardly at all, really. He was going so incredibly slow that he wasn’t really getting very far, but he was far enough to the point now where he was so close to touching him…

But he stopped again, and the two of them became lost in each other’s mouths. Their lips parted at last, tongues battling for dominance over each other. Dean had lost sight of his arousal momentarily before he was reminded once again as he felt pressure on his erection.

Castiel’s hand had drifted towards it, pushing down lightly, causing Dean’s hips to jerk involuntarily against the angel’s hand.

He moaned softly into the other’s mouth, before he began to feel a primal sense in him beginning to awaken.

The sense of arousal and lust. He still desired more; desired to be in control. He wanted more than just simple touches; he wanted to do more than just sit here, letting Castiel do what he wished to him. He wanted to touch the angel as well.

It was this primal urge that landed Castiel on his back, with Dean having broken the kiss.

Dean sat upright, grabbing Castiel’s knees and forcing them apart to get a look at just what he was dealing with, and he found that Castiel, too, had gained an erection.

Dean had known Castiel to have one before, but he hadn’t actually gotten a good look, nor had he really tried to look. But this…this was different. This was here, right in front of him, and he was the cause, and that was more arousing than he could imagine.

His eyes drifted from the bulge pressing hard against the black fabric of the angel’s pants, to his reaction at this.

There was no sign of offense on Castiel’s face. He was looking at him with the most ‘fuck me’ eyes he’d ever seen in his life.

It was clear, now, that Castiel allowing him to do this was his go ahead. It wasn’t just Dean that wanted it, it was him too.

And God, did it look like he wanted. All the angelic sexual innocence had been washed from his very soul it seemed, replaced with unbridled lust and desire.

This was no longer Heaven’s innocent little angel. Well, not that Castiel was _innocent_ before, but even more of it was gone, now.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Dean asked, teasingly.

“Please…” Castiel said, desperation underlying the tone of his voice.

Dean’s fingers slid down the dark cloth confining the angel’s body, running it slowly and teasingly down his thigh before he got to the crotch of his pants. He palmed roughly at Castiel’s erection, and he felt the angel tense below him.

He dragged his hand upward, pushing against his erection as he did so, to be met with Castiel’s hips as he rolled them against Dean’s hand, seemingly involuntarily.

Castiel stifled some kind of pleasured noise, his hand now in a fist, placed to his mouth, as he bit down on his knuckles.

“If you want me to do this, I want to hear you.” Dean said, in an almost commanding tone.

Castiel complied by moving his hand back down to his side, before Dean resumed his ministrations.

His hips thrust upwards again into Dean’s hand, as a soft outward gasp cut through the silence of the room.

After a few more moments, Dean’s fingers began to work with the belt around Castiel’s waist, and having successfully unbuckled it, worked on the rest of his pants before pushing them down.

Now partially free, Castiel’s erection seemed a little larger and more intense when it wasn’t as constrained. It was straining hard against the grey fabric of his underwear, and Dean could see a dark, dampened area where the head of his cock was, signaling that he was, indeed, oozing with desire.

Castiel helped Dean to remove his pants completely, kicking off his shoes, and then the offending pants.

Before working on his underwear, Dean worked on his shirt.

He pushed the coat aside further, before unbuttoning it and then pushing it aside with the coat.

He watched as his mostly bare chest rose and fell with each breath he took, slightly heavier than normal due to the situation.

He noted that he was mostly hairless, despite being a man, or rather, in a man’s body.

With that out of the way, Dean went back to working with his underwear. He pulled down at the waistband, watching as the angel’s erection more or less sprang forth from the removed confines.

For a moment, he just looked, taking in everything he could, before he went to work.

Despite being hairless mostly everywhere else, Castiel was not hairless in the pubic area. For someone who didn’t seem to bother with their genitals, he seemed fairly well groomed. Perhaps it had just stopped growing once he commandeered Jimmy’s body.

The dark, slightly curled hairs framed and blended with something Dean didn’t entirely expect.

Despite the fact that Castiel was fair skinned, to an extent, he was not in the genital region. He was unexpectedly dark, which was not what Dean had pictured. Dean had, indeed, pictured it….

The hunter’s hand ghosted along Castiel’s erection, causing the angel to jerk slightly.

“Dean…don’t.” he warned.

Dean was confused; hadn’t he wanted this?

“Why?”

“If you stimulate me too much, I won’t last long, most likely. Foreplay is not an option, here; just intercourse.”

“You…” Dean thought it over in his head, really thinking about what Castiel had just said. “You want me to physically _fuck_ you?”

“I assumed you knew this and this was our end goal…”

“Wasn’t sure what you really wanted…Hold on.” Dean said, getting up from the bed and heading over to his bag situated in the closet. He pulled out a bottle of lubricant, which he seldom used, for much different uses.

When he returned, he popped the cap with his thumb, before placing his hands on the angel’s thighs and pushing them apart again.

“Foreplay or not, I’m still going to have to loosen you and get you lubed up, or it’s going to hurt…”

“The chances of you actually hurting me are slim to none.”

“…Alright, well, let’s put it this way then. It won’t be very fun for either of us, if I don’t prepare you.”

In the back of his mind, as Dean squeezed the lubricant onto his fingers, there was a sense of coherency. He was coherent enough to know this probably shouldn’t happen; they probably shouldn’t do this, but the rest of him was far too gone into his need for sex.

The both of them wanted this, they were both consenting adults, what could possibly go wrong?

Dean looked down briefly, looking for his target, not exactly sure where he should stimulate until he looked.

Knowing basic human anatomy, he found what he was looking for fairly quickly, and his slicked fingers rubbed against the angel’s relatively unused entrance.

Dean briefly thought as he was stimulating the angel enough to loosen up for him and allow him inside, that this was probably the cleanest anal sex he would ever have. Castiel’s lower half, excluding his legs, were practically unused in any way. Any chance of any waste or waste bacteria that would have been there if he were human, was long gone by now.

Castiel was probably the cleanest thing on the planet and he didn’t even bathe.

But again, this was not the time to be thinking about the workings of Castiel’s vessel.

As he stopped thinking, he realized that the angel had indeed loosened up enough for him to push the first digit inside. He did so slowly, watching him for any signs of distress.

“Does this hurt at all?”

“Not in the least bit…You don’t have to waste time to avoid pain, you can put the other one in.”

Dean was smart enough to know that unless he worked around in there a bit, it was going to be hard to get a second finger in.

“Just a minute…” he said, before he got Castiel to loosen up more so that he could slip a second finger in.

The stimulation Dean was causing by the preparation seemed to be the foreplay Castiel did not want.

He was letting out muffled cries as Dean’s fingers worked inside of him.

After a few moments of this, Dean decided that Castiel had been prepared enough. In all honesty, to someone human, this probably would not have been enough, but Castiel was very clear with his instructions; no foreplay, just sex.

With no pain to hinder them, Dean didn’t really have to worry as much.

The hunter withdrew his fingers before he began to undo his pants.

To his dismay, he had forgotten to do so before lubricating his fingers, thus creating a sticky, slimy mess on his jeans.

Once all was situated in it’s rightful place; his jeans and underwear down to his knees, Dean popped the cap again and squeezed a large amount of it onto his hand, diligently spreading it along his own erection.

His hands still slightly damp and slippery from the lube, Dean managed to haul Castiel’s hips up to meet his.

There was a moment of regret and guilt pulsing within his mind at that moment, and he looked down at the angel, who it was clear so wanted him, and God, did he want him too, right now. But he had to ask…

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Very sure,” he responded.

He grabbed hold of his cock, steadying it as he placed it against Castiel’s opening, and for a moment he stilled.

His mind was racing now, and his heart thudding; coherency coming back. This was crazy; absolutely crazy, and stupid. How had they even gotten to this point? Not moments ago they were nothing but friends, and now they were about to have sex. How had this happened?

Dean took the plunge, deciding to forget about this; deciding to give into his urges, as pushed forward, slowly enveloping himself in the heat of the angel’s body.

 A shuttering sigh escaped him as Castiel’s body squeezed his cock, slowly taking it inch by inch, enveloping it in a tight, wet heat.

The angel’s legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, forcing him in to the hilt, before he rested them there. It caused Dean to give out a sharp, surprised cry.

Dean knew that this would not last long; he couldn’t even remember the last time he had sex, or masturbated, for that matter.

He stilled again for a moment, waiting for Castiel’s passage to adapt to the sudden intrusion. Even if Castiel couldn’t feel pain, Dean needed him to be relaxed enough so that he could move. At the present moment, Castiel’s muscles were fighting him, attempting to remove the foreign object, even if it was something they both wanted.

Castiel was watching him impatiently, but Dean could tell he realized what Dean was doing was for the better, and he decided to wait.

When Dean finally did begin to move, slowly testing the waters and pistoning his hips just slightly, it startled Castiel.

He jerked slightly, but was soon calmed down when he was over being startled from the sudden movement.

Rather than focusing on his own pleasure, he focused on Castiel’s, enjoying watching him as he moved.

Within a few moments, he was beginning to get into the swing of things, relishing in the pleasure that Dean was giving him. It had been slight at first, his breathing having picked up slightly, forcing out of him into quiet, yet rough sighs.

When Dean picked up, so did Castiel. His hips began to move in tandem with Dean’s, his back arching ever so slightly as he stared at Dean through lust filled, half lidded eyes. His canine was fastened to his lip, biting down hard, constraining moans that forced their way from his vocal chords.

Just watching him was sending jolts of pleasure and lust through his body, which only continued to increase.

Castiel was getting more and more worked up, his moans now becoming unfettered cries of passion, his head tilted back against the pillow, and his back arched even more now. He was writhing beneath him, and it was all because of him.

He desperately seemed to be looking for something to hold onto, his fingers gripping tight against the sheets. It was mere moments later that he repositioned himself so that he was tightly gripping the edge of the headboard, his fingers so tight on it’s wooden base that his knuckles were going white.

Suddenly, Castiel seemed to lose himself completely. He groaned out loudly, cursing beneath his breath as he arched sharply, his body trembling lightly.

Dean wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but he had a good idea, and he began thrusting at that same pace and angle, enjoying as he watched the angel squirm with absolute pleasure once again. His voice coming out high, broken, before descending into something low and rough.

He couldn’t take much more of this; it was probably the most beautiful, attractive, arousing thing he’d ever seen. He had Castiel, the person he’d longed to bed for quite some time. He had an angel in his bed, and he was breaking away his innocence. Chipping away at it piece by piece, watching him transform into something much more human. Watching him lose himself in pleasure, experiencing joys and sensations he had never felt.

The generally calm, well-mannered angel he had come to know was falling apart beneath him, losing all the resolve he ever carried.

Then he began speaking, his voice full of desperation and urgency. He was cursing again, breathlessly, calling Dean’s name over and over again as much as he could with the way his lungs were betraying him.

Dean was honestly becoming slightly worried watching him, but too aroused to do anything about it. Castiel didn’t appear to really be breathing anymore. He couldn’t; he was too busy crying out, piercing his ears and mind with the sounds of his absolute pleasure.

He watched him closely, and in addition to the arch in his back, the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his hips rolled against Dean’s, he also noticed something new. Castiel was tense; very tense. He could see his muscles beginning to harden beneath his skin, tighten up and causing him to go slightly rigid in places.

He could feel it too, inside, as the angel began to tighten around him.

He moaned out loudly, and he heard it this time. It hit his ears strongly, unlike what he had been doing. He had been aware he was making some kind of noise, from the feelings in his chest and throat, but he had not heard it.

His change on volume was due to the extreme surge or lust and arousal coursing through his veins at the realization that he was about to watch Castiel cum.

Helping him along, he reached forward, grasping onto his hardened cock. He felt it pulsing lightly in his hand as he stroked him, while Castiel’s hips pushed upwards, thrusting into his hand erratically, with absolutely no rhythm or plan whatsoever.

The angel suddenly stilled, his voice seeming to get caught in his throat before a deep moan was forced from his chest.

Dean watched as he came, the milky substance spurting from his cock and onto his stomach as he thrust into Dean’s hand still, milking every bit of his orgasm as his passage squeezed Dean’s cock, his muscles contracting and spasming from the hit of his first orgasm.

It wasn’t a one-time moan, he kept going. He was lost; so lost, and trembling, and so very exposed and vulnerable. He was crying out still, muffled groans and hisses ; sharp, deep gasps and soft sighs.

Dean was gone; so very, very gone. He thrust hard into him at an erratic pace. He was so close, and the fact of what had just happened was pushing him over the edge.

 It was ever present in the back of his mind that he was fucking Castiel, and he had just watched him cum. He just watched someone cum for the very first time, lost in their own sensations and pleasures, trembling and vulnerable, and it was Castiel. It was Dean who did it. It was Dean who had introduced an angel to sexual pleasures, brought him on a rollercoaster of foreign sensations that he seemed to enjoy every minute of. He had taken something pure and made it vile, and for some reason, that was so incredibly arousing to him.

Suddenly, he came hard, crying out and gripping tightly on Castiel’s hips.

He was lost in a world of blackness and shooting stars for a moment, his ears ringing and his head dizzy from the high.

 He managed to dislodge himself and roll next to his post-sexual partner, who was still breathing laboriously; still wet, still soiled, and still not seeming to car at the moment.

None of them spoke; they just laid there, breathing, attempting to recover before Dean finally realized something.

“You set this up, didn’t you?” he said, still somewhat breathlessly.

“Set what up?” Castiel asked, turning his head towards him.

“You could’ve damn well healed me right then and there. You _knew_ what you were doing.”

Castiel chuckled lightly, “Someone had to make the first move.”

“…You little shit. How did you know I was gonna get hurt?”

“I didn’t. But I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

“That’s pretty bold of you…”

“In truth, I’ve lusted after you for longer than you can imagine. I was tired of waiting. Especially when I had you alone in such a compromising position…”

“And how did you know I’d go for it?”

“As I said earlier, you’re like an open book.”

Dean was about to protest, but suddenly, they were interrupted by a soft chiming from nearby, and the vibration from near Dean’s thigh.

Shit…his phone. His phone had been in his pants the whole time, and he prayed that he had not pocket dialed anyone.

He drew the phone from his pocket, finding he had a text. It was from Sam, and it merely read: “Coming back now.”

Dean groaned softy, “Cas, you gotta go...or something, or get cleaned up. Sam’s coming back.”

Within a few moments, Castiel was up, clothed, and cleaned. It never ceased to amaze him the things Castiel could do so easily.

“That’s handy…”

Dean headed to the bathroom after pulling his pants up slightly to cleanse himself.

After cleaning up, his mind filtered through all the things that just happened and he felt…okay. This was alright, this wasn’t going to change anything. They were still going to go back to their old life, they were still going to be friends. Perhaps friends with benefits, if Castiel was up to it, but still friends.

But Dean didn’t know how wrong he was…

And that was how their story began and sent them into a whirlwind of emotions and foreign problems.

 


	2. Diagnosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some slight humor in this chapter and gratuitous vomiting. Be warned. There is sooo much vomiting, like, so much.

 Their lives returned to normal after that; saving people, hunting things…the family business, but something soon went wrong.

It was once again that they needed Castiel’s help, and for a while, he did, but when he suddenly found that he was unable to teleport anymore, that was the first clue that something was not right.

They thought that perhaps something had been put on the town; a kind of curse, or warding, or something like that, but they had yet to find any evidence of that.

Castiel was more or less stuck with them now.

He wasn’t doing much help, more or less just with them, waiting for them to do things as he waited.

The second clue that something was wrong was when Dean woke one morning to find Castiel sleeping on the motel couch.

He knew Castiel didn’t sleep. Everyone knew it.

But the two of them chocked it up to the same thing; something had to be going on in the town that was messing with his powers.

It was his third symptom that proved something was very wrong here, and that they need not be in this town.

Donned in their typical fake FBI gear, Dean and Sam had gone to investigate a witness, while Castiel waited in the car.

Dean was nervous; Castiel had been acting off all morning. His movements and reactions were greatly slowed, and Dean had contemplated talking to Sam, and just telling Castiel to stay at the motel. But it was apparent to the two of them that Castiel was still useful.

They had been attacked at one point, and saved by the angel, who was found to still be able to kill in his usual manner.

It was probably stupid of them to have Castiel wait in the car when he was useful, but he seemed to have a knack of showing up and rescuing them when need be, which wasn’t a lot, because the Winchesters could obviously handle themselves.

Castiel tagging along though, with their investigations, usually seemed to be problematic. The one time he could remember doing it, it had gone poorly, and Dean wasn’t about to have to think about what to say when Castiel said something weird, or screwed up.

He was already distracted, wondering what the hell was wrong with him, and he wasn’t sure he could think up any kind of excuse, or react quickly enough, if Castiel did screw up somehow.

They had gone somewhere public, to speak to a woman about her troubles. It was a building, where there was a bench situated out front. Little did Dean know that this bench was going to end up being a turning point for their whole day.

Dean had gone out to the car, to get something, but the moment he got outside he forgot what it was, for an immense amount of confusion overtook him at that moment.

Castiel, who was _supposed_ to be waiting in the car, was now sitting on the bench, slumped forward in a worrying manner.

His quest for whatever was in the car was cut short, and immediately diverted into one of going to see what was going on with his angel friend.

“Cas, you alright? What’s going on? Why are you out here?”

“I thought I shouldn’t be in there…I felt smothered with the overwhelming urge that I should get out, and that something was going to go wrong. That I should not be in that car…”

Dean worriedly glanced at the Impala briefly, wondering if perhaps Castiel was having some kind of premonition that something was going to go wrong with the car. When he looked back to him, however, his worry for the car diminished. The car wasn’t the problem, it was Castiel.

Now that he was looking at him, he looked…bad. Sick, pale, just…bad.

“Jesus, you look like hell, and I would know. What happened to you?”

He crossed in front of him briefly to sit down next to him, and the angel quickly turned his gaze from him, back towards the ground.

“I don’t know…Something isn’t right. I feel that there may be something wrong with my vessel, and I can’t begin to imagine what has happened to it…I’ve done nothing strange or out of the ordinary lately to have damaged it.”

“You mean it’s losing it’s strength or something?”

“No…I mean, I don’t feel right… I feel, as you would most likely put it, ill.”

“So…you’re sick. Maybe it’s some kind of angel sickness or something. Does that happen?”

“It does not.”

Dean sighed, leaning back against the back of the bench, “Maybe we should leave…When Sam’s done, just…pack up and go. No one needs you dying.”

“Dean…you’re in the middle of a case; it’s become your job to-.”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve passed a job over to another hunter or two.”

“I don’t want to be the cause of anymore potential deaths…”

“I don’t know if…if you’re sick, and you can’t get yourself any help…I don’t really know what to do. It’s going to be throwing me off my game, and it could potentially make things worse. I don’t want to give up the case anymore than you don’t want me to-I really don’t, but…if something’s wrong in this town, or if you’ve been cursed somehow, I can’t risk you dying.”

Castiel appeared as though he was about to speak, but stopped himself, his hand suddenly clasping to his middle, as he grimaced slightly.

“Hey, you’re not about to die, are you?”

“No…I feel very ill, though.”

“Ill as in how…?”

“There’s a very uncomfortable feeling in my midsection and in my throat….” Castiel’s voice was sounding strained now, like it was causing him discomfort and it was difficult to speak. He swallowed heavily, before he continued, “And I appear to be salivating profusely.”

“Oh…shit, um…” Dean looked around briefly and as quickly as he could. “Shit…Alright, you’re gonna have to fight this. Start taking deep breaths.”

Dean said, nervously. He was well aware Castiel was probably about to throw up or something of that matter, and there were no bushes or trashcans nearby, nor did he know where the bathrooms were inside.

Why, he couldn’t answer. It was incredibly strange, and it made Dean wonder about Castiel’s vessel workings again.

Castiel did as he was told, but he still looked pale, and seemed to stop periodically to swallow heavily.

“It isn’t working…” Castiel said, his voice choked. “I feel worse...”

“God damn it…” Dean said, sighing. “Alright, lean forward, and put your legs apart…Just keep doing the deep breathing though.”

Again, he did as he was told, but again, continued having to stop to swallow. “Dean…what’s happening to me?” he asked, and there was a slight tone of fear in his voice.

“You’re probably about to throw up, and I don’t know why…I mean, this isn’t really the place for it, but there’s nowhere else to go. That’s why I’m telling you to take deep breaths; sometimes it calms you down enough so that the nausea goes away.”

Dean wasn’t even sure if deep breathing would work on an angel; he wasn’t even sure how they breathed, or if they breathed, but Castiel did seem to breathe to some extent, on a regular basis.

Castiel seemed distraught, so Dean attempted to rub his hand along the angel’s back, stroking him soothingly, “You’re gonna  be alright. It’s unpleasant, but you’ll be okay…”

Castiel was confused at this, though, apparently. The gesture was foreign to him.

“Dean, what are you-.”

Suddenly, he stopped, and Dean wasn’t entirely sure why, until he heard a choking gasp emit from the angel beside him.

His body suddenly tensed and lurched forward slightly, his throat emitting some kind of choked, forced noise as a small amount of fluids, that probably was not saliva, suddenly dripped forth, splattering softly onto the concrete below them. He stopped briefly, taking in sharp, shaking gasps, as his body trembled slightly.

“Shit…” Dean said, exasperated. This was hard to watch, for some reason. Not the vomiting itself; he’d seen his fair share of vomiting, but the fact that Castiel was physically ill and frightened by things he’d never experienced before.

“Is that all of it…?” Castiel asked, his voice full of hope and despair.

“…No, probably not.” Dean said, feeling genuinely bad for the poor guy.

Castiel was still breathing somewhat heavily, trembling slightly beneath his touch, and the vomiting seemed to have subsided, but it came back with a vengeance.

He lurched forward again suddenly, letting out a rough, retching noise as an explosion of bile erupted from him rivaling that of a Michael Bay movie.

Startled, Dean jerked sideways, attempting to get away from the explosion, but his hand was still firmly planted to Castiel’s back as he rubbed him soothingly.

It was just something you did when someone was vomiting; you rub their back. Dean wasn’t sure where that came from, or why, but he felt it needed to be done, and he _was_ already there…

The hunter turned his head, not caring to watch the scene, but it was still painfully obvious what was happening, and it was something the two of them definitely could not ignore. The rough sounds of retching and choking penetrated his ears, along with the sounds of the pale fluids splattering hard against the ground from such force.

After a few moments, the noises stopped, and Dean waited there for a moment, waiting to see if Castiel was, indeed, done vomiting.

He could feel the sharp intakes of breath with his hand still situated on his back, and he was still trembling slightly.

Something had to be done about this…

“I think you’re probably done now. You feel okay?”

“Not nearly okay enough…There’s disgusting taste in my mouth.”

“Well, yeah…that’s what happens.” Dean stood, carefully avoiding stepping into the now drying puddle on the ground, “You should probably be resting, Cas. In the car, not out here. I’ve got some stuff in the car; a bowl, for spells and shit…you can use that if you have to throw up again until we can get back to the motel.”

Castiel attempted to stand, but appeared to be too weak to stand correctly. He stumbled, and nearly fell as he rose from the bench. Dean quickly caught him, and the angel leaned heavily against his body.

“Do you feel feverish?” Dean inquired.

“I wouldn’t begin to understand what feeling feverish feels like, so I don’t know.”

Feeling like some kind of mother, Dean put the back of his hand to Castiel’s forehead, and found he felt like a normal human being. No sign of any kind of fever.

Angel workings were so confusing, though. What if it was his soul, or grace, or whatever it was that caused him to exist, that was sick? How would he be able to tell then?

The two of them began their way to the car, with Castiel leaning heavily against him.

“I’m gonna finish up here, and then we’ll get out of here, and then maybe you can get some rest, and everything’ll be fine…”

Dean knew this was stupid thinking, but what else was he supposed to do? As much as he wanted to call the whole thing quits, Castiel was right; he probably shouldn’t.

The angel suddenly slumped forward, leaning in towards the hunter’s torso, which worried him a little.

“You aren’t going to pass out, are you? I don’t know if I can carry you…”

Dean was getting rather worried again; Castiel was very pale, and his breathing had suddenly picked up again.

The angel opened his mouth to speak, but what came forth were not words. Instead it was a projectile spew of bile, splattering all over the front of Dean’s suit jacket.

“Fuck!” Dean said, less from anger, more from the surprise of suddenly being vomited on.

In his surprise, he let go of him and jerked away, but in doing so he noticed he was very unsteady on his feet, so, vomit covered and all, he quickly moved to support him.

He could feel the angel’s body convulsing against his as his stomach continued to contract violently, forcing out copious amounts of bile once again.

 It took some time for the angel to finally stop emptying his stomach, at which point Dean continued to lead him back to the car.

He opened the door for him, gently easing him inside, before he headed to his trunk.

“Do _not_ throw up in my car. The door’s open, do it outside.”

Dean quickly headed to the back of the car, getting into the trunk and going past the mass amounts of weapons to retrieve the bowl safely, safely wrapped in layers of cloth.

He discarded of the layers and headed back to Castiel, but upon attempting to situate the bowl in the car, he was pushed aside and forced to watch the angel vomit profusely for a third time.

At this point, he just stared, watching him in disbelief. Castiel had thrown up three times and it hadn’t even been five minutes, and Dean was getting very worried. Angel or not, Dean didn’t think he could take much more of this. They had to leave; had to get out of this damn town, get him away from here so he wouldn’t kill himself from profuse vomiting.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” Dean said, sternly. “You’re way too sick, Cas…We gotta get you out of this town.”

“Dean, we don’t even know if it is the town.” Castiel said, breathing heavily, having just recovered enough to speak.

“Well, something’s wrong, and we don’t have any other lead to go on!” Dean said, irritation clear in his voice. As he spoke he began to strip himself of his upper layer of clothing, wrapping them up tightly before throwing them into the trunk.

After all was done with, he set the bowl in the back seat, before shutting the door and watching through the window as Castiel finally laid down.

Leaning against the car, Dean withdrew his phone and used speed-dial to quickly dial Sam’s number.

It wrung for quite a while, and Dean was just about to give up, when Sam’s voice finally filtered through the phone.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice low and hushed, “Where the hell are you? You went outside forever ago and never came back.”

“Yeah, thanks for looking for me,” Dean said jokingly, having to ruffle his brothers feathers a little before he continued, “Sam…we gotta go. I mean, right now. We have to pack up and get out of this town.”

“Did something happen? We’re in the middle of a case, Dean. We can’t just-.”

“We’ve done it before, we can do it again. I’ll explain everything in a minute, just get out here.”

“You wanna come in and say that we’re leaving? It might seem suspicious that you just…disappeared.”

“It isn’t going to matter anyway if we’re not coming back. Just get out here, Christ. Besides, I can’t. I’m not wearing a shirt, it’ll seem a hell of a whole lot more suspicious if a supposed FBI agent comes in half naked don’t you think?”

“Why aren’t you-.”

“Sam, seriously!”

“Alright, I’m coming.” Sam said, and Dean could practically hear the bitch-face through the receiver.

Within a few moments, Sam was exiting the building. His pace seemed to be continuous at first, but he suddenly stopped, surveying the situation.

“What…happened here? Did you get sick?”

“No.” Dean said, leaning away from the car, “Cas did. This is all his doing. Which is why we gotta get outta here. Someth’ns really wrong with him. It worries me…I’ve never seen someone _this_ sick.”

“What is getting out of here going to do for him?”

“There’s nothing other to go on either than the town is doing something to him, or it’s been cursed, or warded somehow. It didn’t start until we got here, and you know Cas doesn’t just get sick. He even told me, this doesn’t happen. We need to get him out of here…Besides, I can’t focus on the case knowing he’s this sick. He could just drop dead any minute with the way things are going, and I won’t have that.”

“What is he even throwing up? He doesn’t eat…”

“Bile, I guess…Which…if you think about it, is kinda weird. Why is he even making it anyway? I’m not getting into this. I’ve been thinking way too much about his body lately than what’s healthy.”

“Uh…” Sam said, cocking an eyebrow at his brother.

“Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!”

\----

The three of them were on the road again, now having gotten the angel a large assortment of paper grocery bags, quadruple bagged so that nothing would leak through them.

They’d gone back to the motel, checked out, and headed out, after calling around and finding some other hunters in the area, with much thanks to Bobby.

Hours out of the town now, it was apparent Castiel was not getting any better. They’d lost count he’d thrown up so many times.

It was determined Castiel was actually sick with something, which he insisted couldn’t happen.

They were running out of options; with no clue on what to do, they headed for Sioux Falls, hoping that Bobby, their last hope, could be of some help.

Once night had fallen, and sleep had begun to creep into their minds, they made a quick rest stop at an off-the-beaten-path motel, where none of them really got much sleep.

Castiel slept little, because he was up half of the time in the bathroom, emptying whatever he had in his stomach, and the two brothers slept little because he kept waking them up.

Though exhausted, the next morning they headed out and went straight for Bobby’s.

Castiel had been growing increasingly weaker, and no one was really sure if it was from all of the vomiting, or something else. When he wasn’t vomiting, he was sleeping.

As a precautionary measure, Sam had climbed into the back seat while Dean drove to make sure Castiel kept breathing, though none of them were really sure what they’d do if he stopped.

They were closing in on their destination, when Castiel awoke slowly, and groggily.

He had been sleeping on Sam’s lap, much to Sam’s dismay, because his shifting was causing him to be uncomfortable in specific areas, but if Castiel was comfortable, that was all that mattered.

“Hey, Cas…how are you feeling?” Sam said softly, trying not to startle him.

Sam got his answer when the angel brought himself upwards, leaned forward and promptly vomited into the bag, which had already been changed twice.

“I’ll take that as bad…” Sam said. Dean sighed heavily from the front seat, feeling irritated and worried. Rather, he was irritated from his worry.

What he did next startled Sam, to say the least. Made him fairly uncomfortable. Sam wasn’t sure why, but the way Castiel fell back into his lap, he was pretty much face first in his thighs, fairly high up.

The younger of the two Winchesters gasped in surprise when the angel’s face made almost direct contact with his dick.

“Cas!” Sam shouted, shifting backwards and attempting to move him.

Castiel rolled over, moving further down on his lap so that the side of his face was pressed against the lower part of his thighs.

“I’m sorry…That wasn’t my intention.”

Dean looked back at the two briefly, his brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what the hell was going on in the back seat.

Off and on, Castiel would tremble lightly, from weakness, they supposed, and it was at this point that he began doing it again. Brow furrowed in concern, Sam ran his fingers along the angel’s short hair in an attempt to soothe him.

Dean had looked back at this point, to check on him, before looking back to the road and speaking.

“Almost there, Cas. We’ll get this figured out…I promise. You’re gonna be alright.”

“I’m not worried…” Castiel said weakly, glancing through the seats to look at Dean. “In all honesty, you seem more worried about me than I’m worried about me.”

“I just…thought you might be worried, that’s all...” Dean said, slightly flustered.

“Dean, your compassion is showing.” Sam said jokingly.

“Fuck off, Sam. I’m allowed to be a little worried. He’s our friend, isn’t he?”

\---

It was around noon when they pulled into the Singer Salvage Yard, the gravel crunching and crackling beneath the tires, which penetrated their ears as it drifted through the open window. It was almost a welcoming sound, knowing they had finally reached their destination and they could finally fix, or find out, what was going on with Castiel.

Once parked, Sam helped the angel from the car, and the three of them headed up to the door, with Castiel relying slightly on Sam’s frame to walk. He could walk on his own, but he would sometimes be overwhelmed with dizziness, and he needed someone to support him if he were to fall.

Dean rapped at the door briefly in quick succession before he waited for Bobby to answer.

Though they were good friends, or more like family as Bobby had practically raised them, it was safer to knock. With their line of work, one never knew what might be entering their house.

Bobby soon came to the door, opening it and greeting them with the words, “Didn’t expect ya boys here so soon.”

Bobby did, indeed, know they were coming. They seemed to run into bad service on their way there. There had been quite a bit of rain and it had just recently let up, long enough for them to get inside without being rained on.

Because of their poor cellphone service, the only thing they were able to tell Bobby was that they were on their way their due to a potentially supernatural problem, and that no one was dying yet so he needn’t get too worked up.

So when Bobby answered the door, he was in the dark as to why they were there, but as his eyes scanned the three of them, they fell upon Castiel and he looked hard at him.

“This why you’re here?”

“Yeah…Something’s wrong with him. It started in this town we were in, working a case…”

“Well, you’d better come in before the rain starts up again. Finish your story inside.”

“Before we come in, you’d better get a trash can ready, or something…”

“Trash can…?”

“He’s sick, Bobby. Really, really sick.”

“Look, you come with me while I go find one, and start telling me what’s going on.”

“Alright…Sam, keep an eye on him.”

Sam nodded and they headed off into the house, making their way to the bathroom to retrieve the small garbage can he kept in there, which was mostly unused. Dean spoke as they walked.

“We were in a town working a case; he was helping us, and then all of the sudden he couldn’t teleport. So he was kind of stuck with us. Then we noticed he had started sleeping, which is weird, because according to him, he doesn’t sleep.  I was thinking maybe something was off about the town; some kinda weird angel warding, or something like that.

Then, yesterday, he started acting weird. Really slow, really…sluggish, but we took him with us anyway. We were questioning a witness; he was in the car, and I went to get…something. Can’t even remember what it was, he wasn’t in the car anymore…”

By this point, they were in the bathroom, and the two of them stood there as Dean spoke, having briefly abandoned their quest for procuring a trashcan.

“Long story short, he was out there because he was sick. Then he threw up. Tried to get him to the damn car, threw up on me not a minute later. Got that bowl out of the trunk, couldn’t even get it in there before he was throwing up again outside of the car…

I called Sam up, told him we were getting the hell out of here because something was wrong. But even after leaving the town, he was still sick, and we don’t think it was because of the town anymore…

So, we’re here, and now he’s thrown up so many times I’ve lost count. It’s like, an impossible amount of times. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much vomit in my life, and I’m guessing he can take it, since he’s not human, but this can’t be good for hi-.”

Dean was interrupted by some sort of shout of anguish, and judging by the pitch, it was probably Sam.

“Sam?!” Dean called, as he headed out of the bathroom, quickly going to see what was distressing his brother so much.

He had gone out there, worried, expecting to see some terrible scene but what he found was just…well, it was funny.

“He got you too?” Dean asked, trying not to laugh. Sam was now, as Dean was, wet with bile. It was down the front of his shirt and dripping down his pants.

“It’s not funny, Dean!”

“I fail to see the humor in this, either.” Castiel said, his voice rough and weak.

The way Castiel sounded quickly made any humor he saw in the situation flea, but he did have to wonder how this had even happened.

Bobby soon exited, trash can in hand, looking a little amused at the whole scene.

“Dean, take this trash can, and you get him up to bed. He looks like he needs to lay down. And you stay with him, make sure the boy’s alright.”

Dean nodded and helped steer Castiel away from Sam, “C’mon Cas...You’ll finally get a warm bed instead of a cold car seat.”

As Dean led Castiel up the stairs, Bobby turned to Sam.

“Got any idea on what might be the problem?”

“I really have no idea…We were hoping you might be able to help.”

Bobby sighed, “I got knowledge on all kinds’a things, Sam. Demons, ghosts, Wendigos, Djinn…but angels? I ain’t got much of that. This is gonna be tough, and I’m gonna need your help. We’ll both start hittin’ the books. The two of us lookin’ will just make us find out what’s wrong that much faster. ”

“Right, but um…I gotta change first. I’ll be right back.”

\---

Freshly changed, and vomit free, Sam came back to find Bobby already looking through his so called tomes of knowledge.

He began to do the same, and they read line upon unhelpful line, their eyes growing weary from each and every piece of text they read, and as Sam was nearly asleep, he jerked awake as he suddenly found a passage on angels.

“Found something about angels here…doubt it’ll be what we’re looking for, but wouldn’t that be great if it was?” Sam let out a short laugh, before his tires eyes scanned the passage.

Once reading it, he read it several times over, confusion evident on his face before his eyes widened.

“Uh…holy shit, I think I found something. And it’s…it’s pretty weird.”

\---

Dean was watching over the angel, who had at the moment, fallen asleep and ceased all vomiting, when he heard his brother call for him.

“Dean! Get down here!”

Quietly, Dean crept from the room, trying not to wake him. If he was asleep, maybe he wouldn’t throw up.

He headed down the stairs and found them waiting in the library.

“You got somethin’?”

“Uh…yeah, and since I really don’t want to bother Cas right now, I’m going to have to ask you.” Sam said, seeming a little nervous. “Has uh, I mean…do you know if Cas has um…had sex?”

“What?!”Dean asked, sounding a tad shocked that Sam was asking him this. “Why are you asking me?!”

“Do you know if he has, or not?!”

Dean swallowed, shifting to his other leg and staring off into the other direction. “Yeah, he has. Alright? What’s that got to do with this?”

“ _Anal_ sex?”

“Oh, come on! How would I-...How would I know something like that?”

“Well how the hell do you know he had sex?” Sam asked, inquisitively, and annoyed.

Dean pursed his lips briefly, staring Sam down for a moment before looking away. His attitude had clearly changed, and he was definitely hiding something.

“Dean, what the hell are you not telling us?” Sam asked, staring his brother down like a hawk.

“Fuck, it was me, alright?! I did it!”

“Oh...God, Dean, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did, alright?! We screwed! So what?! The little shit started it! The hell does this have to do with anything!”

“God damn it, Dean!” Bobby said, heading off into the other room, muttering something about balls as he exited.

“You gonna tell me what the hell’s goin’ on or what? What the hell does me having sex with Cas have to do with-.”

“There is a very, very big possibility that you could have very well gotten him pregnant, Dean! You fucked up!”

Dean stilled, staring at Sam like he belonged in a mental asylum, disbelief clear on his features.

“I did what, now?”

Sam left momentarily, heading over to the table where a book was sitting, with it’s place saved. He opened it and read briefly from the passage.

“It says here, that lore dictates there is a slight possibility of a male angel getting pregnant, _even in human form_.  Specifically, when an angel takes on a vessel, it alters the vessel’s body to make a womb, which can create life at the introduction of another male’s seed, just like females and males.

Upon becoming impregnated, the angel may lose some of it’s abilities and begin weakening, sleeping, being able to experience physical pain, and they will be struck with _severe_ vomiting. There’s probably a %20 chance of it happening, so it’s really rare, but it happens. A male angel becoming pregnant also causes problems for the fetus. Five times out of ten, the baby dies, or fails to develop correctly, and is expelled early in the pregnancy.

On the off chance that the baby does develop full term, the length of carrying isn’t exact. It has been said that when developing the pregnant angel may start to show fairly quickly, before the development slows down.”

Sam slammed the book shut, looking at Dean with the most intense bitch-face he’d ever seen, “God damn it Dean, you knocked up Cas!”

“I…” Dean wasn’t even sure what to say; he could not believe the shit he was hearing. “How do you know this is, for sure, what’s going on?” the tone of his voice was full of nervousness, and he swallowed heavily, his breathing picking up slightly. He felt like he was about to have a panic attack.

“I mean, this may only be legend, but look where we are, Dean! Look what’s happening! Every damn symptom, he’s got it, and now we know _you_ screwed him! How many times have you done it?”

“Once, like that’s any of your business!”

Bobby finally returned, carrying a tray with a cup on it, full of some kind of steaming liquid.

“Haven’t I taught you well, boy?! You know you’re supposed to use a condom!”

“Cas is a _dude_!”

“It don’t matter, stay safe!”

“Look, it wasn’t planned, it was the heat of the moment and I…” Dean faltered, and noticed Sam cringed lightly at the last phrase he had uttered, “We just…I didn’t have one and he was begging for it, I didn’t know!”

“You have sex one time, with a %20 chance of conception, and you still get him pregnant! I don’t know whether to be pissed at you or proud!” Bobby sighed heavily, muttering something about ‘damn idjits’ under his breath.

“Take this up to him, tell ‘im to drink it. Might settle his stomach. Then you explain to him all of the ways you screwed up.” With that, Bobby handed him the tray.

Dean stood there for a moment as Bobby left, not even sure what to do with his life. Sam was still staring at him harshly, “Can’t leave you alone for two seconds, Dean! Leave you alone for two seconds and you’re knocking up angels! Male angels! Why is it that I’m the younger brother and I still have more sense than you?!”

“Hey, fuck off, okay!? There’s no way I knew this shit was gonna happen! Give me a break, damn!”

“You’d better get up there and talk to him.”

“I’m goin’…” Dean said, sighing.

He headed up the stairs, slowly; each step he took filled him with anxiety. It was like he was walking to his death.

Dean stood outside his door once he got there, just thinking. What was he going to tell him?

This was so backwards; wasn’t it usually the female telling the male she was pregnant, worried out of her mind and wondering what to tell him? Here he was, the male, telling…the other male, that he had gotten him pregnant.

Did they even know he was, though? Dean had to make sure. It would be so much easier to just buy him a pregnancy test, but you couldn’t use a pregnancy test on someone who never peed.

Then, another thought drifted into his mind; what Sam had said…That a pregnant angel may show quickly. If Dean could take a look at his stomach, maybe he could determine if he was or not.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his way past the door, into the room, where he found Castiel curled up, but awake.

“Cas…I…” Shit, Dean didn’t even know what to say. “How are you?”

“I’m surviving…”

Dean headed over to the bed, putting the tray down on the bedside table, before sitting down next to him.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“I suppose.”

“It’s gonna sound weird, but can you…open your shirt, and undo your pants?”

“Dean, if you’re trying to have sex with me right now-.”

“No, totally different reason. Just do it.”

Slight confusion evident, he did what he was told.

Once exposed, Dean looked over him closely, but there were still too many clothes in the way.

He pushed his upper clothing out of the way, and then worked his pants down past his hips.

Something was…different. He didn’t look the same; not like he had, when they’d had sex.

There was the slightest of swelling in his abdominal area.

Tentatively, Dean ran his hand down his stomach, feeling how his body suddenly changed in that area.

“Has this…been here?”

“…No, I was going to tell you…it happened last night. I’m not quite sure what the problem is.”

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“Because I was afraid to open my mouth.”

Dean lowered his head, letting out some kind of combination of a sigh and a whimper.

“Fuck…Cas, I am so sorry…I…wait, one last thing.”

Dean felt terrible doing this, but he grabbed hold of the angel’s arm, pulling his sleeve up and digging his nails into his flesh, “Can you feel that?”

“Yes, stop!” Castiel said, pulling his arm away.

“It hurt?”

“Yes it…hurt.” Dean watched as the wheels started turning in his head, watched as he realized this was not supposed to happen.

“Oh, Cas…I’m so sorry.”

“Why do you keep apologizing?”

Dean wasn’t quite sure why. This was confusing. He should be scared and angry that Castiel had gotten pregnant; he should be scared for himself, that he was probably going to have a kid out of nowhere, but for some reason, he was just more concerned for Castiel; he was more upset that he had put him in this situation.

And of course, he was scared for himself. He wasn’t ready to be a father; not in this life…How was this going to work?

“Sam and Bobby did some research…They think you’re pregnant…That’s why you’re so sick. With everything they read, and every symptom you have, that’s definitely where things are pointing right now…”

Castiel’s reaction was fairly stoic, he just looked at him, before sighing and breaking his gaze, “I’m sorry, Dean…I didn’t know…It’s supposed to be rare, and it’s never happened with seraphs. If you want it gone, I can try to purge it from my vessel…”

“No don’t…just, don’t do that, okay? Please…”

“If that’s what you want…”

“Here, drink this. It should help you.” Dean said, taking the cup from the tray and handing it to the sickly looking angel. He took it from him, bringing it to his lips and drinking from it slowly.

Dean kind of just sat there, dumbfounded, before Sam suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“How is h-…Dean, what the hell is going on in here? You were supposed to be talking to him, not screwing him.” Sam said, in reference to Castiel’s clothes.

“I was _looking_ at something, Sam! We weren’t fucking!”

“Looking at what?”

“Looking at his body, trying to compare what you’d read to me to what’s going on with him… I even scratched him…”

“And what is the diagnosis of the great Dr. Dean?”

Dean scowled at his brother, who in turn smirked at him. “Yeah, he’s pregnant, Sam. Don’t laugh about this shit, it isn’t funny.”

“No, it’s not funny, but you’re the one who got yourself into this shit. Look what you did.”

Sam ventured closer to the bed, and Castiel watched him as he continued slowly sipping from the cup.

“Is he showing yet?”

“Why don’t you ask him, he’s right there…?”

“Because he’s busy.”

Castiel put the cup aside, not only to answer Sam but because he didn’t think he could drink much more,

“Yes.”

The angel repositioned his clothes as Dean did to expose himself just enough for Sam to see, and the younger brother looked a bit shocked.

“Shit…Can I touch that…?”

“I don’t mind.”

With the go ahead, Sam gently placed his hand over the swell in the angel’s abdomen, feeling that it was firm beneath his hand.

“That’s crazy…I mean, I know this isn’t really the best situation right now…But just think about it, we’re bearing witness to something incredibly rare. We’ve got a pregnant male angel in our midst.”

Sam removed his hand and turned to face Dean, “Do you realize what you’ve done? You, as a human, impregnated a creature of God. You two are going to have some kind of crazy hybrid babies.”

Dean swallowed, feeling a little bit uncomfortable, before he decided to voice his thoughts into the open.

“It’s weird…I’m having a baby with one of my best friend’s….who’s an angel, who’s also a guy. Ain’t this some soap opera shit…”

Sam soon left, and Dean ended up staying with his pregnant friend before he fell asleep again, unfortunately, after vomiting a few more times.

It was around nightfall that he finally left the room, heading downstairs to find Sam and Bobby gathering together in the library.

It was here that they discussed the immediate future; that they could still hunt, but one of them was going to have to stay behind.

It would most likely be Dean.

Bobby was to become the second hunting partner if need be, and the brothers and their angel would stay there for the duration of Castiel’s gestation.

That night, after everyone else had gone to sleep in separate beds, Dean slept on the couch downstairs.

He thought Castiel deserved his own bed, and given that they were not lovers, only friends and once sexual partners, Dean didn’t think it was appropriate to sleep with him.

His sleep that night was interrupted by nightmares; nightmares of just what was going to happen in their future, and how uncertain it was.

Dean would find later that despite all this fear, he would soon calm and come to except this fate.

He was going to be a father, and he needed to shape up, get mature, and act like one.

 


	3. Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains grossness and a little bit of angst. You are warned.  
> edit: I lied, it contains a lot of angst. And gore.   
> Now you're warned.

  The days went by, and as their days together grew, so did the angel. Dean watched as he slowly blossomed into something that was oddly beautiful.

Dean was never really into pregnancy, but Castiel was different. He watched as his child became more and more apparent as days went on, and he had that pregnant glow about him…

Fear soon changed to excitement. It was setting in that perhaps being a father wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Dean was going to have a little him running around.

Dean was determined to get the kid to share his music tastes, though. At one point, Dean had put a pair of headphones up to the angel’s stomach, not with the soothing sounds of Mozart, but the rocking tunes of AC/DC and Metallica.

Castiel had no qualms about this, he really could care less.

For a while, they stayed friends, regardless of their situation, but Dean couldn’t help but feel warmth growing in his heart every time Castiel was around, and then one night, that all changed.

Both Bobby and Sam were gone on a hunt, and the two were alone in the library. The room was lit by nothing but moonlight and the glow from the fireplace.

Dean had gotten drunk, and coupled with the angel’s occasional, ravenous sexual appetite, the two had fucked. Only, it wasn’t fucking. It had started out that way, but it descended into something else.

What was once sloppy, drunk sex turned into meaningful lovemaking. Castiel was seated on his lap, more or less riding him, because being on his back was uncomfortable.

But something changed; they never broke eye contact. It was slow and sensual; loving. Dean’s hands roamed along his body, touching everything he could touch, just wanting to feel him, not for sexual purposes, but just needing to touch his body and feel the warmth that radiated from his skin.

The inebriation had broken down Dean’s inhibition, and he finally started seeing everything that he had been missing.

There he was, right there with him, breathing sighs of pleasure as his eyes glistened and sparkled in the dancing of the flames. He was bathed with an orangeish glow, and even though it was dark, Dean could see just well enough.

He was beautiful; God, he was so beautiful…

Mid-coitus, Dean began questioning and thinking about things. Just how he felt about the other. The warmth he felt whenever he was around him, the strength of those feelings…

After the both of them had climaxed, and they sat in that same position, still attached and bonded, Dean suddenly broke down into some kind of drunken mess.

Though he was ashamed to admit it now, Dean had cried, which worried Castiel at first before he started speaking.

He had clutched him close, burying his face in Castiel’s chest as he confessed his undying love to him.

He stopped having a filter, and started behaving like…well, a girl.

Just talking, and crying, about how much he loved him, how he realized that now. How he loved their unborn child, and how he was ready to become a father, and they _could_ have the chance at a happy life.

The angel didn’t speak, only pulled his head up, and kissed him deeply.

The rest of that night was a blur, and Dean had only remembered wanting to have sex again after that, but the two of them were to spent to accomplish anything, and Dean was too drunk.

The next morning, Dean awoke to find himself in Castiel’s bed; the two of them were both naked, and Dean had been confused. At first, he had no idea what had happened, but Castiel reminded him by fastening his lips to Dean’s as he awoke.

Though mildly ashamed at breaking down like he did, Dean still realized his feelings were genuine, and moments later, they made love properly. Slow, sensual, loving sex lit by the morning light filtering through the curtains, and assaulted by the scent of freshly brewed coffee and bacon.

Both Sam and Bobby were presumably awake, but at the moment, they didn’t matter. It was just them.

 

After their rendezvous, they decided to stop being friends, and become lovers.

Their days continued like this, and Dean had become much more loving towards the angel. Frequently, he found his hands now roaming his body, resting heavily upon his now very swollen middle.

Dean was a little disappointed, as he had only really felt the baby move a total of two times. Castiel never alerted him of any movement, so he was missing out.

It worried him a little, but if it was moving, it was obviously alive.

When Castiel continued to grow, it was decided that Bobby would deliver the child, since the other two were apparently incompetent enough to do so.

But suddenly, something happened out of the blue.

Bobby had to leave, due to personal business, and so did the brothers.

Bobby wouldn’t tell them what it was, but he had told him that something else was happening some hours away.

A friend of his, and theirs, was having some supernaturally related problems that required both of their help. Bobby could not help, as he was gone.

It was a very dangerous situation, because they would not leave Castiel alone, but they had to leave. Bobby said he hated to do it to them, but this was a situation that needed cared for.

There was a particularly dangerous spirit problem that seemed to be taking place inside of a house, and a house only. It was determined that as long as Castiel stayed out of the house, things should be fine.

Long story short, they got it done.

How, they didn’t know. Dean was so off his game; so worried about Castiel, that he almost screwed up several times, but the spirits were gone and they were heading back to Sioux Falls after a brief stay in the hotel.

Something went wrong, again, with the angel, as they were leaving. It started early that morning; he just looked unwell, or like something was bothering him.

Luckily, they weren’t hunting, and they were just heading home.

As they drove, Castiel did nothing but sleep, and Sam seemed to be particularly worried about him, which he voiced.

“I’ve got a bad feeling…”

“About?”

“Cas…something isn’t right with him. I’ve been watching him. He doesn’t look comfortable.”

“Damn it, Sam…Come on, he’s gonna be fine…he’s gonna be fine, right?”

“You’re worried too, aren’t you?”

“…Yeah, I’m a little worried. He is acting a little off, and last time he was acting off, something massive happened.”

“I mean…what if he’s-.”

“Don’t! Don’t go there, Sam! This is not the time or place. You’re gonna jinx it and it’s gonna happen, and we’re gonna be in a world’a trouble.”

 “Well, you gotta think realistically! We have no idea how far along he is or how long he carries this thing around for.”

“Don’t call it a _thing_ , that’s my child in there.”

“Fine, carries that _baby._ ”

“Look…do me a favor, get back there with him, and I’ll keep driving. We’ll get back home and everything’ll be alright.”

Dean pulled off on the side of the road to allow Sam to get out, and head into the back.

“Cas…you’re gonna have to wake up.” Sam said, shaking him gently. It didn’t take much to wake him up, and he moved long enough for Sam to get down, before Sam commanded he lay back down, which again ended up on his lap.

“You feeling okay?”

“Fine…” Castiel said, though Sam noted his hand tightly clutched to his middle.

“You look kinda…bad.”

“I’m fine. Just need to sleep…”

Within a few moments, he was once again asleep.

In the span of the next few hours, everything that could stand in their way, would stand in their way.

Construction had begun on their main route, causing them to have to detour, which was a far longer way. Not to mention, they ran into _more_ construction, which slowed them down due to traffic.

The sun was beginning to set, and things weren’t going so smoothly. Sam was getting more and more worried, watching the angel on his lap. He had since curled up like some kind of cat, his legs drawn upwards and his face pointed towards his knees. His hand was still firmly clutched to his middle, from what Sam could see.

They were on the open road now, _still_ not close to Sioux Falls, yet.

Sam had fallen asleep, and at present, Dean was the only one awake.

He was very slowly awoken by the presence of….kneading, on his leg. Castiel was gripping his jeans tightly, though still asleep.

He could see that the angel’s brow was furrowed, and he just prayed he was having some kind of bad dream, but Sam was still worried.

“Fuck, Dean…I don’t like the look of this. Maybe we should find a hotel or something?”

“There isn’t any around here.” Dean said, nervousness in his voice. “This…this just can’t happen, not here…He’s probably not even full term, right?”

“We don’t know that…”

“Come on, Sam! Have some faith that this shit’s gonna be alright!”

Sam was worried, though, and he couldn’t just pretend things were alright. He had Castiel on his lap, looking uncomfortable. Maybe Dean was okay because he couldn’t see him, and he wasn’t right there, but Sam was not about to take chances. They needed to nip this in the bud…

Gingerly, he slipped his hand between all of the in-the-way limbs, unbuttoning the angel’s shirt and pushing his hand out of the way, so that he may replace it with his own.

There was not but a simple warmth beneath his hand, and Sam was beginning to feel relieved, until something suddenly changed.

As he heard Castiel emit a very muffled cry, the muscles beneath his hand started to tense, growing tighter and harder each moment, and he watched as his whole body seemed to grow rigid, and as his hand gripped tightly at his jeans again.

Within a few moments, the muscles relaxed again.

“Dean…I know you don’t wanna hear it, but we gotta find some place to stop…”

“It better be because you have to pee.” Dean groaned.

“No, it’s Cas…”

“Come on, Sam! Why do you have to think he’s in labor or something?! What proof do we have?”

“Because-.”

“Sam…” Castiel said suddenly, groggily as he woke from his slumber, “Could you keep it down?”

“Sorry…are you okay?”

“Yes….No…Please, stop the car, Dean.”

“What, why?”

Castiel swallowed audibly, looking visibly ill, “I’m not feeling well…Please…”

Luckily, they were on an open stretch of road, where they could easily pull over, which Dean did quickly, and he had barely stopped as Castiel clambered out of the car and headed off towards the trees. Dean wasn’t sure why, but he assumed he was probably going to throw up, and he didn’t want to get it on his car.

He was less nimble as he was when he had those terrible bouts of vomiting the first time.

Sam quickly followed him, feeling like some kind of struggling spider as he tried to get out of the cramped space, working with those long limbs of his.

When he caught up to the angel, he was leaning against a tree, using his arm to support himself as his forehead rested on the bark.

Cautiously, he closed in on him so that he was standing beside him.

“I thought you were gonna be sick…”

“I am…but I’d rather not. I needed to get out of there, in case I did…”

Sam leaned against the tree, watching him carefully, his brow furrowed with worry.

“Are you okay…? You don’t seem well.”

“Is this not obvious? Didn’t we just pull over for this very reason?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, I mean…you were really uncomfortable back there. You’re not hurting, are you?”

“Not…” Castiel stopped momentarily, leaning heavily against the tree, before he turned quickly and released a steady, quickly stream of bile, creating a disgusting, sickly sound of splattering vomit on the leaves below.

Sam grimaced, sighing slightly as he watched.

It went on for a few seconds before he stopped, breathing heavily and turning back to Sam, looking like he hadn’t slept in months.

“Not really…”

Sam sighed again, still looking incredibly concerned. “This isn’t a good sign…”

“I’m fine, Sam…I just…” he stopped briefly, his hand coming to rest on his lower abdomen, fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of his shirt. He grimaced slightly, emitting a soft, pained noise, as he leaned his head heavily against the tree.

“Cas? You okay?” Sam asked nervously.

“It just…it hurts a little bit. I’ve been…” suddenly, he let out a hiss, his fingers tightening more, digging into the fabric.

He let out a huff of air before he continued, his voice strained, “Having these pains for a few days but they didn’t seem like too big of a problem…”

“Damn it, Cas! You should’ve told us!”

“I’m fine, I promise. From what I know about pregnancy, there is a sort of…fake labor?”

“Yeah, which leads up to a real one. God damn it, we should have stayed home. We should have stopped. Come on, let’s get back to the car. I’m gonna kill him, and after I kill him I’m gonna find a spot to stop, and we’re gonna stay there until we figure out what’s going on.”

“I don’t believe this is a real labor…I can probably make it to Sioux Falls.”

“We’re pretty far away…Traffic, construction, all that stuff…”

Once he had composed himself well enough, Castiel and Sam began to head to the car, but he was not feet from the tree before he suddenly doubled over in pain, letting out a surprised, pained groan as he grasped at his abdomen.

He nearly fell, and had it not been for Sam suddenly supporting him, he probably would have.

Sam was all nerves; they’d been through so much crap. Death, demons, ghosts, all this crazy shit. Saved the damn world, but hell if Sam knew what to do with a pregnant person.

It was different…With the ghosts, the demons, and so on, if a person were in danger the solution was fairly easy. Perhaps dangerous, but easy. Easy in the way that they could control it; they had the chance to save this person, but not with Castiel. It was out of his hands. There was nothing he could do to ensure that both Castiel and his unborn child would live.

There was nothing they could do if something went wrong, anyway, but the situation made it even worse. They were out in the open, exposed. Nothing was planned, nothing was…safe.

The birth of a nephilim might attract something; something bad, and the distraction of someone giving birth would probably be fairly unhelpful if they needed to fight something off.

Sam felt like it was their duty to help the angel, in any way possible, and they could not do that so easily if they were being attacked.

No, they needed to be somewhere safe, and they needed to be there soon…

Besides, it just made him nervous in general. He had no idea what the hell to do, in terms of delivering babies.

When he had composed himself again, Sam decided to ask him a question.

“Do you have _any_ idea on the gestation time for you guys?”

“No…It’s not exact, even with females. Pregnancy is believed to be different between our true forms, and when we’re in human vessels, so that leaves even more question. Furthermore, I don’t know everything. Despite being celestial beings, my kin and I are not all knowing. So the secrets of our reproduction are a mystery, even among ourselves.”

It wasn’t but a few steps from the previous position that Castiel was struck with yet another wave of pain, gripping tight onto Sam’s arm as he rode through it, crying out in agony as he did so.

After the initial first shock, a groan of pain pushed it’s way through the grit of his teeth, slowly ascending into something much more agonizing as the pain pushed on. Ascending into sharpened breaths, smattered with pained whimpers before he was silenced for a moment, only to soon let out a broken scream.

This was worrisome to Sam, but it was what came with the screams that was even worse. What really set his nerves on end…

In the brief moment where Castiel was silent, he heard a very soft pattering noise.

He looked around briefly, wondering if perhaps something were coming up behind them, but it wasn’t that kind of sound. No, more like something singular, hitting the fallen leaves.

So, he looked down, and finding the closest spot to him, saw a faint amount of liquid dripping onto the ground coverage.

On perhaps the weirdest instinct he’d ever had, Sam grabbed ahold of the back/inside area of Castiel’s thigh, testing for dampness. The sun was setting, and Castiel had dark pants; he wouldn’t be able to tell if it was coming from him just by looking, although he could have very well guessed.

He pulled back a very damp hand, feeling a little grossed out, and a little more worried when the hand he pulled back was tinged pinkish red, mixed in with a bit of clear fluid.

“Damn it!”

“I apologize…My suspicions were incorrect…You were right.”

“It’s…it’s okay, uh…shit. Come on, we need to get you in the car.”

Sam rushed him back to the car as quickly as he could, given the situation, helping him in and then settling in beside him.

“The hell happened out there?” Dean asked, turning back to them.

Then, Sam exploded. Exploded into so many worried emotions, feeling nothing but irritation at the stupidity of the man in the front seat.

“I told you, Dean-I told you, we should have stopped but it’s too damn late now! He went out there, threw up, contracted all over the place and then his water broke, and we’re stuck out here, in this god damn car; fuck if we know if there’s any damn place to stop, and I don’t know what to do here! I’m a little freaked out!”

Dean didn’t respond; not verbally, but emotionally. There was the look of shock and fear on his face briefly, before he stepped hard on the gas and spun out back onto the road, the tires screeching loudly as he did so.

It jostled them quite a bit, and Sam found himself holding up the angel so that he did not fall too hard.

“You want to not kill us? Where the hell are we going?”

“I don’t know!” Dean said, shouting from the front seat, and Sam could practically feel the panic radiating off of him.

“I’m so sorry, Cas…I should’ve listened to him, I should’ve stopped.”

“Neither of you could have known the true nature of the situation. I didn’t know either.” Castiel said, his voice strained, before he let out a sharp cry, doubling over as his fingers tangled in his shirt again.

The sheer panic Dean was feeling at the moment was second to none. This was all his fault…In an attempt to have faith that everything would go right, he had ruined everything.

They were who knows where, hadn’t seen any signs for any place to stay, and he couldn’t even get service on his phone to check.

But Sam was right; they needed to stop, and by god if they had to stop in the middle of nowhere just to stay safe, they would.

“What do you suggest we do?” he asked, throwing a glance back at Sam, watching as he attempted to comfort his ailing boyfriend.

He had a hand running down Castiel’s back in soothing motions, while he in turn had gotten into some strange position, burying his face against Sam’s shoulder, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. It seemed in a desire to just be close to someone; to just have human comfort in such an agonizing time.

Sam looked up at Dean as he spoke, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to think of just what they should do.

“I don’t know…But it isn’t safe here. Not in this car…and there’s not enough room. We need to-hold on…I have a signal.”

Sam quickly went to work on his phone but found he couldn’t really get much done, other than make a phone call, it seemed.

So he did the next best thing…

He speed dialed Bobby’s number. He might have been home by now, but the chance of making it back in time seemed slim, now.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was calling Bobby, but he felt he needed to. Perhaps he could give them some sage advice when they, themselves, seemed to have no idea to go on other than ‘stop somewhere’.

To his astonishment, he answered.

“Sam?” was his opening statement, and there was confusion clear in his voice, “Everything alright?”

Sam understood Bobby’s concern. When they had problems, supernaturally, they called him, but the case they’d just worked was simple enough. Nothing that warranted calling him.

“We got a problem…” Sam said, breathing a sigh. “We were on our way back, but there was all this construction and we’re having to take some weird route back, and we’re still so far away. Cas went into labor, and there’s nothing around. Literally nothing. Maybe a few houses, but that’s about it. I don’t know what to do, Bobby…and neither does Dean.

We were hoping maybe you could give us some kind of suggestion?”

Bobby sighed heavily on the other line, and then it went quiet. Sam could only hear the faint crackle of fire in the background, soon interrupted by Bobby’s voice.

“Okay…you’re gonna want to stop somewhere, obviously. Preferably somewhere safe, but stop where you gotta. Don’t want that baby born in a car. Just not enough room back there, and not very comfortable. Besides, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. So, the best bet might be to stop somewhere where there’s not a lot of people around.

Need anything else?”

“No…Think we got it, thanks Bobby.”

“Now wait a minute. When you find a place, call me, so I can give you a run down on what to do. It’s been me looking into this because I figured I’d be the one doing it. I’ve got a bit of basic, essential information written down on hand. Now get goin’. I’m hanging up now.”

“Thanks.” Sam said, before Bobby hung up the phone.

“Alright…Bobby says, look for somewhere isolated. Maybe a hotel isn’t the right place. Attracts too much attention.”

“Like what?” Dean asked, scanning the sides of the road for anything they may use.

Sam was doing the same, when his eyes met an abandoned building on the side of the road.

“Like that?” Sam asked, and Dean slowed to a stop.

It was a barn, barely abandoned, but still clearly abandoned. There was nothing around and it appeared empty.

“A barn? Really?”

“You see anything else?”

“No…ugh, come on.” Dean said, opening the door and sliding out of the front seat.

He moved around the back to open the door for the two of them, more for Castiel’s benefit than Sam’s.

He had quieted since then, but the both of them noted it was probably because he was trying to keep himself quiet.

It was a bit of a walk; the barn was not exactly close to the road, more several feet away, and it was difficult. Sam was still supporting the angel as he had to make brief stops, overcome with pain, while Dean fell behind and pulled some blankets and a few cans of spray paint from the trunk.

He had caught up with them again by the time they got to the entrance of the barn, and as Dean pushed open the doors, they were met with the smell of mildew and general oldness…

This probably wasn’t the best place for this, but it was the only place.

Once entering, Dean tossed the cans to Sam, and took over as body supporter.

“Go.” He commanded, leading Castiel over to an empty, cleanish area.

Wasting no time, Sam shut the door, and began working on putting up warding symbols.

It was worrisome, to put up warding symbols against angels, with an angel in the room, but it wouldn’t kill Castiel, it would just weaken his powers. Dean just prayed to God he didn’t need to use them at this point.

While Sam was busy, Dean let go of Castiel briefly to spread a blanket on the floor, while the angel leaned against a column nearby.

He grabbed hold of him once again and helped him ease onto the blanket.

There was a wall behind them, which Castiel found perfect to lean his upper half against.

“We need to get these off…” Dean said, working with Castiel as the both of them struggled to remove his pants, which Dean found were dampening his hands as he worked with them.

Once off, Dean noticed a distinct streak of blood running down the back of Castiel’s inner thigh. His brows furrowed in worry briefly before he laid a blanket over his lower half.

The angel let out a heavy huff of breath, taking in a shaking gasp as his body seemed to stiffen. In an attempt to sooth him, Dean’s hand ran along his leg, squeezing lightly every so often, for lack of a better, more reachable place to grab.

He watched as his eyes closed tightly, fingers gripping tight against his belly again, while the other hand balled up the fabric of the blanket into his fist.

He let out a soft, high pitched cry, which wavered into a whimper as he rode out the pain.

He breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to catch his breath as the pain subsided, before glancing down at Dean.

“Cas…” Dean said suddenly, his fingers still idly rubbing at his blanketed leg, “I’ve gotta ask, for your own personal comfort…one of us is gonna have to deliver this thing. It’s gotta be either me, or Sam…Now, I’ve seen all of…this,” Dean said, gesturing towards Castiel’s lower, yet covered area, “Sam hasn’t…Do you want him to? Or do you want me to do this?”

“Sam…Please…I need you, here, Dean.” Castiel said, gesturing to his side. “I need you beside me. It hurts, Dean…and I don’t know if I can do it without you here.”

“I’m gonna be here either way…but alright, Sam can do it. You sure it’s what you want?”

“Yes. I really could care less if Sam sees me, exposed.”

With Castiel now covered and as comfortable as he could be, Dean made his way to his side, with the angel’s eyes following his every movement.

When he was settled, the hunter’s hand found it’s place atop Castiel’s, as it rested upon his stomach.

His fingers brushed gently over the skin, soothingly, even if Castiel wasn’t presently in pain.

“Is it getting better?” Dean asked, suddenly breaking the silence. “You don’t seem to be in as much pain as before…”

Castiel shook his head, shifting slightly so that he could scoot further up the wall, feeling uncomfortable with the way his back was bent.

“No…But it caught me off guard, the first few times. I’ve learned to anticipate it. To keep quiet…”

“Why do you need to keep quiet? We’re safe here, Cas…” at least, he hoped they were safe.

“It’s instinct. It’s how I was raised; how I was trained. Don’t give away your position. Keep quiet. Ignore the pain. Don’t let anybody know how much it hurts…”

“You’re not a warrior of God anymore…Right now, you’re, well…a mother. It’s okay to let go.”

“I-…” Castiel cut off, his eyes closing again as he let out a huff of breath. His teeth fastened to his lip, as his breathing came out in shuttering pants, his body stiffening slightly, and the bones of his hand tensing and shifting beneath Dean’s, who in turn gripped lightly at it.

Dean watched as he rode out the pain, not entirely sure what to say here, doing all he could. He watched as his body finally, and slowly relaxed, looking like he was drained of all energy already.

“I’m a bit ashamed…” he said, finally continuing his conversation now that he could. “I’ve come to realize, in this vessel…pain is something I can’t ignore quite as easily. The threshold has become weaker, and I find myself sometimes exhibiting it.

But it’s somehow different; it comes from battle, and in those moments, even with the pain, I’m fighting for my life, or I’m fighting for someone else who depends on me. Those moments…it’s not quite so easy to focus on being stoic.

The difference here is, I’m not fighting. I’m not trying to save someone’s life, or my own…I’m just sitting here, waiting, and I should be able to control it. But I’m finding it harder and harder to control the pain, and to keep quiet. It makes me feel weak…Even admitting to you that I was in pain earlier, and that I needed you, made me feel like a bit of a failure, as a warrior...”

Dean sighed, looking worried and upset by the speech Castiel had just given. His mind worked through various possible responses before he finally settled on one.

“Cas…you aren’t weak. I mean…I don’t know much about labor or childbirth; I’ve never gone through it myself, but I do know that it’s one of the most…shit, I don’t want to scare you, but it’s one of the most painful things a woman can go through.

And I know you’re a man, but I’m gonna guess it’s the same principals.

And from what I know…it’s gonna get worse, and you’re gonna have to fight through this. Trying to focus on not looking weak is not going to help. It’s gonna make things worse.

Besides, you’re not in front of an enemy; you’re not on the battlefield. You’re with me, and Sam, and none of us are going to think you’re weak for exhibiting any sort of pain. In fact, I think this makes you pretty damn tough.”

Castiel didn’t respond, only looked at him thoughtfully, shifting his hand so that he could grab ahold of Dean’s.

After what seemed like ages, Sam finally stopped warding the barn, and headed over to the two of them. Before he could say anything, Dean spoke up.

“Congratulations, Sammy. You’re on delivery duty.”

“I-..what? No, why? You’re the one who’s been down there before.”

“Personal preference. He wants _me_ , up _here_. Besides, you’re better with the medical stuff anyway.”

“Don’t think it’s that hard, Dean…but okay.”

With that, Sam settled onto the floor, sitting in front of Castiel’s legs.

Castiel did not seem to get much rest, as once again a particularly painful contraction overtook him, at which point he stopped trying to look strong. His breathing came out in rough pants, with intermittent, strained cries.

Suddenly, he looked worried, turning his attention to Sam, which he soon noticed.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his own worry soon masking his features.

“I…I don’t know. There’s a lot of pressure.” Castiel said, his voice strained and nervous. “Something’s coming…”

A lock of shock and panic appeared on Sam’s face, before he forced himself to become calm.

Again, Sam was filled with a mild sense of panic. He was not prepared for this. He had only finished warding mere moments ago, before he was told he needed to deliver, and now it seemed he was going to have to do it before he had any chance to prepare.

He pushed the blanket up, exposing him, not entirely sure what exactly what he was looking for.

There was a sense of awkwardness, staring at his brother’s boyfriend’s bleeding lower half, but he was too worked up to care at the moment.

“What am I supposed to do about this?” Castiel said, followed by a soft whimper.

“Uh...You’re gonna have to push. You know what I mean, right?”

“I think so.” He said, in between panting breaths.

It didn’t take long for Castiel to understand what his body was trying to do, and he bore down, feeling like he was straining his whole body.

His fingers gripped tightly around Dean’s, almost painfully so, and Dean was concerned for half a second that Castiel might be capable of breaking his hand, if he squeezed too hard.

As awkward as it was, Sam kept his eyes on Castiel’s lower half, readying himself to catch whatever may come.

But what came was not what he expected. Expecting to see the head of an infant, he was filled with confusion and mild panic at what emerged. Something thick, long and fleshy; covered in raw tissue and capillaries.

The moment it emerged completely, falling to the floor (as Sam was not about to touch whatever that was), he was surprised once again.

There was, more or less, an explosion. Sam figured it was from all the hard pushing he had been doing, not stopping immediately, that caused a massive spurt of blood to emerge, thick drops and globs of which shot onto his arms and shirt with a sick, wet, splattering noise.

For a moment, he stared in disbelief and shock. What the hell had just happened?

He looked up, finding Castiel breathing heavily and resting his head against the wall.

Dean was looking at him hopefully, but with a massive amount of worry etched into his brows.

“I…” Sam started, looking down at himself, and the blood splattered against his clothes. “False alarm…Cas, fuck…you okay?”

“Fine…” Castiel said, his breathing beginning to calm some.

“Good….I, um…I need to go call Bobby.”

Sam got up in a hurry, exposing to Dean his bloodied person, before he headed outside. Why did Sam have to go outside?

Once Sam left, Dean’s eyes were trained towards Castiel’s legs, but he couldn’t exactly see anything but the tent in the blanket.

Without saying anything, Dean stood, moving around to the bottom of him, trying to see exactly what had happened.

It didn’t take him long to find what Sam had been so bothered about.

There, in a small puddle of blood, was a piece of matter he could not identify. He should try to identify it, but he really didn’t feel like he should be touching it.

He bent down, examining it the best he could, finding it to be a swollen mass of tissue. Almost tube-like…

Ultimately, Dean decided it needed to be moved. Whatever it was, it couldn’t just sit there.

Disgusting as it may be, he scooped the fleshy mass into his hands, closing them so that it was not visible. It was warm, slimy, and disgusting, and he could feel the excess blood dripping down his hand.

“Be right back, Cas…” Dean said, not even giving him the chance to respond before he ran outside, where he found Sam speaking to Bobby exasperatedly, gesticulating as he did so.

He gave him a quick glance before he went to his conversation, and Dean, for the most part, ignored him.

Feeling nervous for a moment, he dropped the mass into a pair of nearby bushes. He hoped sincerely that this was not his child that had just been passed; that whatever was in Castiel had been a lie, and this was what it had been, but Dean sincerely thought otherwise. He had felt the movement, however slight, and Dean saw that this thing could not move.

As Dean started to head back inside, Sam hung up the phone. For a moment, Dean turned back to look at him, seeing a worried, unhappy expression etched into his features.

“Everything alright?”

“I…I don’t know. I don’t like this, Dean. Something isn’t right. Judging by what you just did…you saw that thing, right?”

“Yeah…yeah I saw it.”

“And it was really, really weird, right? Not normal…”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one giving birth. Maybe it is?”

“I talked to Bobby about it; he says he doesn’t know what it could’ve been. Says he doesn’t entirely like the sound of it either, but thinks it might’ve been part of the uterus, or something, coming loose. Not in a bad way…but in a menstruation kind of way.

But I talked to him about other shit, too…About the blood, and the way his contractions are coming. It doesn’t sound good, Dean…I mean, I’m worried. He’s not even my boyfriend and I’m worried.”

“It…it was kind of tube like, Sam. The thing that he passed. And swollen…I don’t know what it is and I…fuck.” Dean said, cutting himself off and leaning against the barn.

“It was going so good, Sam…Why is it going wrong, now? Is it so impossible for either of us to be happy? Is it some kind of fucking cosmic joke that’s being played on us; we’re not allowed to have anything?”

Sam sighed, feeling like he’d just opened a flood gate. He probably shouldn’t have said anything, but his worry had just come spilling out before he could do anything.

“I’m sorry…as worried as I am, I still have a bit of hope. So have some faith, okay? Come on…we’ve gotta go back in there.”

Dean nodded, and the two of them headed in, and Dean went back to Castiel’s side after wiping the blood from his hands on the already soiled blanket.

Before doing so, he felt like a dead man walking again. Walking over to Castiel, who was none the wiser that there may be a problem. That the baby he was expecting; that _they_ were expecting, might not be what they hoped.

Once he sat down, his hand drifted over to the angel’s, who sought it out immediately as it got close.

He was looking winded, perhaps just coming down from one of his hundreds of back to back contractions.

“What’s happening, Dean? You left with something…”

Dean froze momentarily; he knew…he knew something wasn’t right, but Dean had to do his best to reassure him that everything would be fine.

“Nothing…nothing. Sam was just calling Bobby to see how he’s supposed to deliver this baby, and…and you had passed some kind of...uterine lining. Kind made a mess of Sam, too, in the process. It was kinda in the way, so I took it out. But it’s fine. Everything’s fine, Cas…”

Dean was lying; he was lying again, like he always did. He lied so much, the lies he told were almost like truths, to him. But maybe if he did lie, whatever he was lying about would become true. That everything was fine…

But who was he lying to? Castiel, or himself?

But even with this lying; the lying to himself, and the lying to Castiel, that everything would be alright, he felt like he could cry.

He looked to Sam, who was glancing at him with a sad expression, before he headed back over to Castiel.

For a while, it was the same routine; nothing spectacular happened, and they just waited, but Castiel began to gradually get worse, and was clear by the increase in pain that, despite the closeness of the contractions, he hadn’t been anywhere near close.

Minutes had turned into hours, and Castiel was doing surprisingly well. But without warning, his demeanor changed. He had been as calm as one could possibly be, but he broke through that calm, as another contraction started building.

It had been normal at first; the normal cries of pain, taken with shaking gasps, but the change came as Castiel soon quieted, his breath caught in his throat as he struggled to breathe as an intense surge of pain washed through him. He grabbed onto anything he could, his body tense and rigid, before he let out a scream of other agony, throwing his head back as his body trembled from the pain.

From this point on, he couldn’t breathe, simply couldn’t, taking in short, sharp, choked gasps that were interrupted as he screamed.

Concerned, Dean tried to talk him through it.

“Cas…hey, c’mon Cas. Listen to me. I’m here.” Dean said, rubbing his hand the best that he could. “You gotta breathe, okay? You’re gonna pass out if you don’t. Come on, focus on breathing.”

Castiel nodded, attempting to stop for a moment, focusing on breathing. He managed, taking in slow, deep breathes that shook as he did so.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Dean said, looking with concern, deep into those blue eyes of his as though it may comfort him. Dean could tell something had changed, even if Castiel hadn’t said it. It was different...

“I-I don’t know it…” Castiel had to stop, letting out a pained cry, gripping tightly onto Dean’s hand. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he continued, “It hurts…I don’t know what happened…there’s so much pressure down there, and it hurts so bad. Oh God, it hurts, Dean.” He said, letting out a tearless sob as he finished.

Dean looked down to Sam, who’s worried expression matched his.

“Is it like before?”

“No. Worse.”

Castiel suddenly realized, again too late, that his body was telling him to push again, and he did as he did before.

Suddenly, he stopped, feeling an intense burning pressure, and the feeling like he was being torn apart.

“I can’t…I can’t do it anymore, Dean. It hurts too much.” Castiel said, letting out another shaking breath as a pained whine escaped his lips.

“I know it hurts, baby, but you gotta keep goin’.”

Dean truly felt bad for Castiel; he could see he was in so much pain…

“Sam…anything special going on down there?” Dean asked, addressing Sam who had been watching the two of them, rather than where he was supposed to be looking.

Sam was about to retort, but simply cast his gaze downward, feeling a jolt of shock and surprise the moment he did. “Jesus Christ!”

Dean gave a confused look towards his brother, one that spelled out ‘What the fuck is your problem?’.

Sam understood, having been with his brother for long enough to pick up on his mannerisms, and what those seemingly meaningless facial expressions meant.

“I…I was surprised, sorry. Um…he’s crowning, I think...It’s kinda gross, but it looks okay.”

Dean let out a soft laugh; one of surprise and relief, “Okay…C’mon Cas, we’re at the finish line. You can do this. I know it hurts, but you’re almost done, and this is all gonna stop soon.”

Castiel managed to nod lightly, before he continued, attempting to expel what was causing him so much pain.

He let out a strained scream, his legs trembling as his body strained as hard as he could muster.

Castiel’s hand was gripped tightly around Dean’s, and Dean was beginning to feel the bones pushing together, painfully so, but he realized that the angel’s pain was far worse than anything he was doing to him right now, and he could manage.

The hunter’s heart was pounding in his chest ,watching Sam as he worked, hoping he wouldn’t see some kind of change. Some kind of worry, or shock. Sam just looked focused…

Castiel stopped again, needing to rest. He leaned his head against the wall, panting heavily with the mixture of high, breathy cries.

“You’re almost there, Cas. The head is half way out.” Sam said, and Dean felt a sudden, strange flood of relief.

“Hear that? Just a little more. You’re doing so good, Cas.”

Castiel didn’t bother to respond, only went back to his task, just wanting this to be over with.

Dean watched intently, as Sam continued to work, and as Castiel gave one, strong push, he watched as Sam smiled, breathing out a soft chuckle of relief.

He felt a sense of calm wash over him, and Sam began to work the baby out the rest of the way, but his calm was soon replaced by fear.

The light, happy expression he had was soon replaced by concern.

“Sam? Is everything alright down there? Please…tell me everything’s alright.” Dean said, pleading and hoping as hard as he could.

“There’s…there’s a bit of a problem, but we can fix this…Yeah, we can fix this.” Sam said, but Dean didn’t believe it, wholeheartedly. Sam still looked nervous. Was he lying to him?

His expression only grew more grim as he worked, and Dean knew something was not right. Then there was something to go along with Sam’s expression; the sound of something distinctly…wet, and squishy. A damp tearing sound, of some sort.

Sam sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped forward, and he looked at his brother with the utmost expression of sadness before he spoke the words he never wanted to hear, “I’m so sorry…”

“What…what is it? C’mon, it can’t be that bad, right? I mean…the baby’s alive, right? Maybe Cas can…can fix it, or something?”

Despite the fact that Dean was trying to remain optimistic, he was on the verge of tears.

“I …I don’t know, Dean. It’s alive but…”

“Why do you have to call my kid an it, Sam? Can’t you tell what it is? I mean…it shouldn’t be that hard, right?”

“No, Dean! I can’t tell what it is because…because there’s nothing here!”

“You mean…it doesn’t have a gender? We can fix that, right?” Dean asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“No…I mean there is literally _nothing_ here. It’s …it’s missing …”

“Let me see it…” Castiel said, finally speaking up. “Give it to me, Sam.”

“You…you don’t wanna see this, Cas.”

“I might be able to fix it. Give me my child!”

Sam fought with himself for a moment, but ultimately, decided to do what Castiel asked, even if he knew that, in the long run, Castiel could not fix this.

Castiel sat up, and Sam handed the infant to him as carefully as he could, and Dean saw exactly what Sam meant. He paled, feeling like he may vomit, seeing just what his child looked like.

If it was deformed, he would have been fine…It would have worked, they could’ve worked it out. But this wasn’t even deformed…this was worse.

It’s face was normal; like a peaceful, sleeping infant, but things went wrong the further he went down.

At it’s chest, he saw it’s heart, beating. Not through its’ chest, rather, on it’s chest. It had been poorly formed, on the outside, instead of inside.

Maybe they could have fixed that…Maybe Castiel could have done something, but it got worse.

Beneath where the umbilical chord was attached was…nothing. There was something, but it wasn’t right…

Sam was right; there was just nothing there. No legs, no genitals…nothing. Just organs; a mass of swollen, mutilated intestines just dangling from an empty cavity, where it seemed the baby had just stopped growing.

No wonder he couldn’t feel it moving…It had nothing to kick with.

He looked to Castiel, who cradled the infant gently in his arms, his fingers coming to grace it’s cheek, dwarfing such a tiny face.

“She would have been so beautiful…” Castiel said, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“S-she..? Dean said, his voice too strained, and broken.

“I can tell…I can tell from the aura of her soul, she was female…”

“Can…can you fix this, Cas? You can, right?”

The angel looked to him, and he saw the first trace of tears slipping down his cheek, and his voice spoke and shook as he spoke, “No, Dean…I...I can’t. I can’t reform something that was never formed.”

He let out a shaking breath, closing his eyes tightly as his mind worked.

“I can’t let her live, Dean…”

“What? No…No, Cas, please don’t do this. There’s gotta be something-.”

“There’s nothing…I can’t fix this. No one can fix this.”

“Please…let me say something, first.”  Dean said, leaning over and looking into that stoic face of hers.

“Hey…I know you don’t know me.” Dean said, his fingers coming to stroke her cheek gently, and he could feel the tears pricking his eyes now, ready to spill at any moment’s notice. “And you never will...and I know you can’t hear me, or understand me, but I would have loved you…We could’ve made it work…you, me...Cas.”

He could feel the tears beginning to slip down his face now, wet and stinging his eyes as they emerged. “I would have done _everything_ to give you the life you deserved…I’m so sorry.”

Dean drew back, leaning on one arm as he sniffled lightly, wiping away the tears with his free hand.

It was Castiel’s turn to speak, to give the last words he could before she passed, “I love you…and I’m sorry that I wasn’t capable of finishing you….I’m so sorry. Please, be at peace…”

He laid his hand upon her cheek, and there was a soft, glowing light, and Dean watched as the exposed heart slowed, coming to a stop at long last, and then she was gone.

Dean wasn’t sure what triggered it, but Castiel broke down then, crying like he’d never heard anyone cry before. His arms still clutching her lifeless body, as tightly as he could without causing any further damage.

So…there he was, sitting on the dirty floor, the smell of pungent mildew fresh in his nose. The sounds of his crying lover, grieving over the child he had to kill; the child who never had a chance.

He felt so many emotions at once; so many, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend them.

He knew there was sadness, anger, despair…

He looked up at Sam, who was idly wiping a stray tear from his cheek, smearing a bit of blood on his face in the process, but not seeming to care.

The night seemed to stretch on, after that. Castiel did not stop crying for some time, and continued to do so as he was forced to birth what was left of the child who never made it; i.e, the placenta.

They slept in the barn last night, and it broke Dean’s heart in so many ways, to watch Castiel stay awake, holding that child, until Dean could stay awake no longer, and drifted off to sleep.

It was no different, the next morning. Heartache still fresh in their mind, but Castiel had changed.

It was when they headed elsewhere, gathering the materials to give her proper rest, that Dean really noticed the change.

Standing there, deep in the forest with their pyre built, and the flames growing higher as they lowered her body into the flames, Castiel just…stared. He didn’t cry, and he didn’t move.

Dean had cried; even Sam, but not Castiel. It hurt even more to realize why.

He realized, for the time being, Castiel was dead inside. That he had cried so much already, he couldn’t cry anymore.

So depressed he felt nothing…Could feel nothing.

They gathered her ashes, after the fire died, placing it in a receptacle they had bought, for the time being, to be replaced at a later date with something more respectful.

It was weeks later, when their life began to return to normal, that Dean had spoken to Castiel.

“Cas…” he said, laying a hand gently on the angels as they sat in Bobby’s home, “If you want…we can try again.”

“No, Dean…I can’t go through that again.”

Perhaps it was the loss of their child that caused Castiel to turn on them, later on down the road. He had been a bit off since that time, and at some point in time, he snapped.

Eventually, he was gone; dead, Dean presumed, becoming nothingness as he dissolved into the water in a rush of black.

It was not long after that, that the Leviathans burned Bobby’s house to the ground, and that is where he lost his daughter for the second time.

Dean realized, he had nothing then. He had lost his lover, he had lost any trace of his child, and all he had was Bobby, his broken brother, and himself.

But Dean would push through.

He had to.

 

**-The End-**


End file.
